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THE 



Spectral Feast; 



MRS. H.^'N- RALSTON, 



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 



By E. H. MILLER. 




WASHINGTON, D. C. 
1878. 






Copyright, 1S78, 

Br MRS. H. N. RALSTON. 

.\11 rights reserved. 



tO rtji; 



Fra^^^^^,^!'^'''''''!'^^^ LegioH. 



Of Wabhinoton, D. C 






FROM THE PRESS 



Rational lUcpublicau ^Irinting (Hompanj), 

WASHINGTON, D. C. 




The Spectral Feast. 

HE scene was wild — ^iii caverns dread 
And peopled with the spectred dead 
A feast was set — -lost souls of men 
Forever passed from mortal ken 
Were bid to come — the Ghoul this night 
Would greet again with fierce delight 
Each old-time friend' — the wine should flow 
As at the feasts of Long Ago. 

And thus they came from East and West, 

From North and South, each phantom guest. 

A wierd procession moved they all 

In silence to the banquet-hall, 

While lurid light from flashing bowl 

Revealed each ghostly Human Soul. 

ISTo priceless ransom now could save 

The weak, the strong, the young, the brave! 

" Most welcome subjects," spake the King, 
" I would that you memorials bring 
Of by-gone scenes at festive board, 
Of such you all have precious hoard, 



The Spectral Feast. 



Let recollection then have sway, 
To wing the fleeting hours away, 
So, while amid the shadows dim 
We quaft" the wine from beaker's brim, 
We'll drink one toast to Memory, 
And hold again high revelry 1 " 

Thus the Spectre of Manhood made answer then, 

"The sands of Life's years number threescore and ten, 

An ingrate, I squandered this heavenly boon, 

I emptied the hour-glass ere yet 'twas high noon ! 

Dark visions upon my lost spirit now crowd, 

The jeers of the mocking — the scorn of the proud, 

The taunt of the Fiend who pursued me and hurled 

Me from Honor's high place — accursed of the world 1 

The Fiend of the wine-cup — on souls doth it feed. 

Of blood doth it drink in its horrible greed. 

It stealeth the coin to the penniless thrown. 

It laughs at his tatters — -it curses his groan. 

It blackens the whiteness of Youth's fairest page, 

It clutcheth the prop from bent, tottering age. 

It thrusteth 'neath vestments of purple its sting. 

It plucketh out jewels that girdle a king. 

It drowns the sad wail of the penitent's ^ prayer 

In breakers that roll o'er the gulf of Despair. 

I come, O Destroyer, at thy fell behest 

To drink of the lees from life's full vintage prest. 

Full oft have I joyed in the wine's ruddy flow. 

But now do I curse thee mid dungeons of Woe ! " 



The Spectral Feast. 



A shadowy casket Ambition then brought, 

By Wisdom's hand fashioned — in beauty enwrought, 

Ambition had borne it 'mid loudest acclaim 

To place it where beckoned the finger of Fame! 

A casket once bound by the claspings of Truth, 

And filled with the Hopes and Endeavors of Youth, 

Where jewels of Thought had with knowledge combined, 

And tendrils of Faith had around it entwined. 

This casket of Genius so wondrous, so rare, 

No sceptre iti lustre might with it compare;, 

Now, only its semblance Ambition could bring 

While thus the grim Spectre spake unto the King: 

" Alas ! can one fetter the pinions of Thought, 
Or blot out the record that Ruin has wrought. 
Or treasures from stores of Remembrance unfold, 
Decayed by the rust and destroyed by the mold, 
Consumed in the fierceness of Passion's wild fire, 
Or ground in the depths of Pollution's foul mire. 
Or lost in the black, seething waters that flow 
And writhe as they sink in the maelstrom of Woe ? 
My casket is empty— its shadow I bring 
Of all hast thou robbed me, Insatiate King ! " 

The Spectre of Power, once awful of mien, 
Now bidden as guest to this banqueting scene. 
Spake thus to the King, " Lo ! the annals of Fate 
Are blazoned with arms and device of my State, 
My banners streamed out in their glory afar, 
And princes were bound to my conquering car. 



The Spectral Feast. 



Where morning's bright sun gilded sands of the East 

I spread to my courtiers a right-royal feast, 

And brilliants that slione on my glittering crest 

Had flashed in their splendor from thrones of the West. 

But destruction came swift — thy captains are bold, 

They entered as victors within my stronghold. 

They felled my firm gates— ray citadel gained, 

My diadem seized — -and my proud soul enchained. 

With beakers yet tilled from the flagons of wine, 

A vassal was I, and my kingdom — 'twas thine! 

Thy cohorts, Tyrant, subdue to each zone, 

And wine is the Demon that guardeth thy throne, 

The vulture that swoops from a rose-tinted sky, 

The dragon that slays with its basilisk eye. 

The monster tliat rages,— tlio' seen from afar 

It wrecks where it guides, 'tis Perdition's red star ! 

I wander dethroned, yet my curses shall ring 

Forever, throughout these dread caverns, King! 

A pale form of Cliildhood appeared as a guest, 
Like one that a mother had clasped to her breast, 
Had stilled its low plaints with her lullaby song 
Ere, mingling her voice witli the angelic throng. 
Ah ! quickly the Spirit of Evil tlien sped 
To cast his foul net over Infancy's bed, 
He bent o'er tlie sleeper, oh, horror ! to trace 
Sin's hideous impress upon that 3'oung face, 
To stain that pure tablet, white, even as sjiow. 
And bliglit the May roses just ready to blow! 



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Tlie Spectral Feast. 




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A flush o'er the brow of the flerce monarch came, 
Was it glow of the wuio, or tingle of shame? 
For he criexl in his wrath, " Away ! hence ! away ! 
I'll none of thy pipings — -not here shalt thou stay. 
Thou earnest unbidden — A vaunt with thy woe ! 
Wan Shadow of Childhood, — Forevermore, Go!" 

The Phantom of Pleasure then turned to the King, 
So haggard a spectre! so ghastly a thing! 
Her tresses thro' which the warm sunbeams had played. 
And carelessly toying Love's fingers had strayed. 
She cliitched, in the frenzy of maddened despair, 



10 The Spectral Feast. 

And cried in her ravings, half-curses, half-prayer, 
" Abandoned of earth, and of Heaven denied, 
Condemned my lost soul in })erdition to hide. 
Accursed of all mortals — unshriven by jiriest, 
. Yet men once proclaimed me the Queen of the Feast I 
They waited my bidding — bowed low at my shrine, 
And poets sang thus in tlieir nund^ers divine: 

We hail thee, Queen of the Feast, 
As Goddess whom mortals adore. 

We bring thee rare gems from the East 
And to thee libations outpour. 

Too dull, and too poor in their worth 
Are pigments of linmer to trace 

Those charnjs with which at thy birth 
The Graces illumined thy face. 

Thou camest to dazzle our sight 

From heights where divinities dwell. 

stay thy mysterious flight. 

Still charm by thy magical spell. 

l*ale Luna, with luminous train 

Moves on thro' etherial space, 
Thou treadest Love's royal domain 

With step of imperial grace. 

From measureless depths of the Blue, 

Some wandering, radiant star 
Shines out in effulgence anew 

As thy dreamful eyelids unbar. 



The Spectral Feast. ii 

An alchemy subtle may steep 
The breezes of Spring in the vale, 

While thou the sweet secret dost keep 
Of jierfume, thy red lips exhale. 

Aurora, with roses fresh blown 

Loops back the thick folds of the sky. 

Till the Monarch of Day on his throne 
In splendor of glory sweeps by. 

And poets her graces divine 

Shall sing thro' the ages that roll, 

But we, to thy beauty in wine 

Will pledge, as we garland the bowl. 

'Twas thus till the morning grew broad in the East, 
They rendered me homage as Queen of the Feast. 
Through fumes of the wine-cup I saw not the glare, 
Or form of the serpent there coiled to ensnare. 
Until from the sting of its poisonous fangs 
I tasted of death, yea, its bitterest pangs ! 
Though shrunken and blasted. False Tempter, I swear. 
This soul could it fly from these realms of Despair 
Would shout to the nations, " Look not lest ye die. 
Look not on the wine-cup, for death lurketh nigh ! 
O Mortals ! that Tem[)ter why will ye not flee ? 
That Serpent that stingeth. Foul Tyrant, 'tis Thee!" 

Lo! then the dread Demon in fury arose 

With a gleam in his eye like to furnace that glows, 



12 The Spectral Feast. 

And the swift, whirling clouds of his fiery breath 
Like the Simoon's hot blast on his mission of death. 
He spake, and the cavernous echoes awoke, 
As if amid mountains the thunders had broke. 
Back shrunk the pale spectres in direst affright, 
Back, back to the darkness and chambers of night. 

" Ye minions," thus thundered the King, 

" Your curses no longer shall ring, 

I summoned my slaves, not my foes ? 

I heed not your vvailings, your woes ; 

I am strong, yea. Lord of the Will, 

My purposes . dread I fulfill, 

I yield not for Pity's sweet sake, 

I reck not the heart-strings that break, 

I mock at the Hopes that are fied, 

I swell the grim ranks of the dead, 

The light of the wine-cup shall glow, 

Its spell over mortals I'll throw. 

Their shrouds shall yet burthen the loom, 

I'll ring out the knell of their doom. 

The spouse to the banquet I'll spread, 

Shall come from his new marriage-bed. 

The tresses of beauty shall twine 

With serpents that lurk in the wine. 

The life-blood of childhood shall drip 

From cup that I'll press to the lip. 

For place that Ambition would crave 

I've marked out a desolate grave. 



The Spectral Feast. 



K3 



I'll change into creatures of Hate 
Each vassal that guarded the State, 
The monarch in vesture of Power, 
Before me shall tremble and cower, 




I'll snatch the pure gold all uuwrought, 
Deep hid in the minings of thought, 
To blacken and burn in the fire 
Enkindled by maddened desire, 



14 The Spectral Feast. 



I'll blot from the dial of time 
The record of Manhood's rich prime, 
Yea, wind the black fumes of the bowl 
As cerements, to shroud the Lost Soul!" 

What boast of a braggart in insolent pride 
Can stay the on-sweeping of Victory's tide? 
Resistless it rushes — it thunders from ^'ar 
Like the cataract's fall, or the clamor of War ; 
Throughout the dark caverns its grand echoes ring 
The wassail is ended — why paletli the King? 
Shall billows the sway of the dread Tyrant own? 
Ah, No! for engulfed are his sceptre and throne. 
He sinks ! he is lost in a fathomless grave. 
No mortal to pity ! no angel to save ! 

Waters of Temperance ! quench as ye flow 
Each light that lures on to the dungeons of Woe, 
And mirror as onward your surges ye roll 
The Rainbow of Hope to the perishing soul ! 






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